


To Walk Through Hell, Hand in Hand

by Beware_The_Tristero



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (for Bucky and Tony anyway), (past) - Freeform, (yet), Abduction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Asset Bucky, Asset Tony, BAMF Bucky Barnes, BAMF Nick Fury, BAMF Phil Coulson, BAMF Tony Stark, Bottom Tony Stark, Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Clint Is a Good Bro, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Espionage, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra is NOT Shield, M/M, Manipulative Nick Fury, Nick Fury has a plan, PTSD, Phil Coulson Has the Patience of a Saint, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Nick Fury, Protective Phil Coulson, Protective Tony Stark, Rating T to E, Read the chapter summaries!, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Top Bucky Barnes, Will become Explicit over time, early 2000s, pre-avengers, spy games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2018-10-24 17:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10746402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beware_The_Tristero/pseuds/Beware_The_Tristero
Summary: Tony is kidnapped at a young age by a sleeper-cell haunting Stark Industries; initially taken due to the potential he’d displayed for crafting and adapting technology, Baron Von Struker also sees the makings of a lethal, graceful assassin should he be trained properly.Years later, the thoroughly indoctrinated Tony is given the same super-serum concoction that Bucky kills his parents to attain, the pair (as part of the Supreme Leader’s sadistic machinations) are assigned to each other in hopes that the older male can train the younger to adapt and the make the most of hisgiftsfor thegloryof Hydra.What Struker couldn’t have foreseen, however, was that the pair would become partners in more than just theoperativesense.An ambitious field-agent named Nick Fury sees it, though, and (along with a well-meaning rooky who owes him a favour or two) hatches a plan to catch and rehabilitate the lost Stark-heir and Sergeant; it was all going so well... until the Shieldhigher-upstried to put them into separate holding cells...





	1. Acquisitions

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own (or claim to own) any of the characters used within this non-profit piece of fiction. I am merely using them, their likenesses/settings for my own entertainment (and hopefully the entertainment of others).

“How long has he been cussing in Russian for now?”

Sighing softly, his pale blue eyes turning back to the monitor, Phil shrugged his shoulders before returning back to the veritable mountain of paper-work he was attempting to finish this side of Kingdom Come; “about three hours... makes you wonder how Tony can stand it” he commented glibly.

“I’m sure that the kid’s heard worst... although, kid isn’t the right word to use, I guess” Nick murmured whilst shutting the control-room’s only door with a hushed _click_ ; “twenty-three years old and already a master-assassin... you ever see the report on Prague?”

“Can’t say that I have...” the thirty year old replied, his ball-point pen scratching across the latest _statement_ he’d be submitting about their freshly _rescued_ charges; “and something tells me that I don’t want to... how the hell did you get clearance to see something involving Project Winter, anyway? You might be gunning for that cushy Director’s job, Nick, but you’re nowhere near it, yet...”

Chuckling, his Shield uniform clad body approaching the paper-burdened table, his right hand clutching a brown paper bag whilst his left proffered two coffees, Nick Fury carefully placed his load (a welcomed lunch-break considering neither of them had eaten since the latest batch of chaos had subsided some five hours ago) down and pulled out the adjacent chair to Coulson’s.

“I have my ways” he said with a smirk, his levity dropping when he turned to observe the pair he’d spent the greater part of six months planning to acquire; “you tell Jessop that if he came back down here with the _help_ that I’d tase his ass?”

“Yes sir” the dusty-brunette huffed through a tired laugh.

“Yeah? What’d he say?”

“That he’d be having words with your father...”

“Hah! Cunning bastard... well, the jokes on him” the auburn eyed Agent snorted; “the Old General won’t give a damn so long as Shield’s _interests_ are protected...” he stated firmly, the smile which had started to crawl across his lips dying when he regarded the two _Assets_ in their shared cell. “Shit... fucking _interests_... you with me on looking out for these guys, Phil?”

“You have always been there for me and Clint, haven’t you Nick?” was the soft response, the slightly younger man stopping his scribbles to follow the senior Agent’s gaze; “they’ve been through enough suffering and, although we can’t pardon them or take them out of the system, we can at least give them something they’re so desperate to keep...”

“Each other, you mean?”

“Yeah” Phil sighed, his free hand shakily reaching for one of the steaming beverages; “walking through hell has got to be easier with someone holding your hand, after-all...”


	2. A Past Shared, A Past Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see chapter 1.
> 
>  **Warning** : talks of killing and character deaths.
> 
> I'm trying something different here, so don't expect Tony and Bucky to be how I _usually_ write them.
> 
> Again, sorry for writing something else instead of updating... However, more and more often I find I must go where the plot-bunnies take-me...
> 
> They're brutes, I tells ya!
> 
> : 3

”This is Russian, no, really! Truly it is! Mmeehhhh”

 

Murmuring a song he’d picked up somewhere or other, his left hand gently combing through the older man’s hair as he continued to grumble into the twenty-three year olds abdomen, the Winter Shadow enjoyed the feeling his back resting against the soft padding stapled to the wall he leaned against. He had been surprised, really, when the Americans’ who’d entrapped them had not only spared their lives _but_ brought them to such a comfortable holding-cell.

It didn’t mean he’d be swayed by their words though; however, with any luck, the silver tongue he’d perfected over the years might just work its magic on them.

“You’re thinking too loud, Angel” a hoarse, stress gritted voice called above the tune trickling out of his lips; “why not close your eyes for a while... you haven’t slept in over twenty hours...”

“Neither have you, Guardian” the younger quipped; “and you must remember to speak English from now on, okay? You’re not making the best of impressions as it is...”

“That filthy _bastard_ should not have placed his hands on you... if his nose is broken then it’s his own fault ” was the growled response as the Soldier curled his legs a little closer to his chest, his fatigued form supported by a firm yet comfortable mattress that dressed their shared cot.

“He was only doing his job...”

“If any of them so much as look at you, I’ll...”

“Shh, shh, shh...” the shorter of the pair soothed, his fingers gently massaging the other’s scalp; “that man, Fury, promised that we’d not be separated unless we, ugh, misbehaved, did he say... yes, that was it” he added lightly. “We have played many games together, you and I, what’s one more, hmm?”

“I do not _like_ games...” the azure eyed assassin snarled bitterly; “this is not the life you were meant to have...”

“It wasn’t meant for _you_ either” the auburn eyed killer chuckled softly; “Sergeant James Buchannan Barnes of the Howling Commandos... it’s a shame that your Brooklyn accent didn’t stay the course  old man.”

“Your American accent isn’t so fresh either, Mr Stark...”

“You were young when my father was, _grandpa_... ”

“You were born with a silver-spoon in your mouth, _brat_... ”

“And I can’t remember a day of it...”

“You were ten and vulnerable...”

“You were twenty-two and severally injured...”

“You’re making excuses for me... for what I _did_...”

“For what _we’ve_ been forced to do...” the smaller of the pair breathed, his eyes closing against the white-glare of the harsh strobe-lighting over-head; “my hands are dirty, my ledger is red, you want to feel guilty for killing my parents? Then should _I_ feel guilty for all of the parents I’ve killed? In front of their children? _Their children_?” he asked, his tone dull and quiet. 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, my Guardian, but I can’t _feel_ that guilt... the only thing I can detect is your warmth, your _breathing_ and that’s all I need ” he turned his eyes towards the closest camera, his boyish face creasing menacingly in a way he’d been told was quite frightening. 

“And I will allow no one to take you away from me...”


	3. An Offer you Can't Refuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see chapter 1.
> 
> This chapter is rated 'G'.

“So, how are you settling in?”

Snorting, his eyes rolling, Tony (he didn’t like the sound of Anthony) regarded _Agent Coulson_ (if that was his real name) with an incredulous look as the man (as mild-mannered as he appeared to be) stood primly before the reinforced glass that sealed their glaringly white cell (not that he’d be complaining anytime soon, he supposed, especially now that damned strobe had been shut off).

“He is being sarcastic, yes?”

“I fear that Shield personnel have a similar humour to our old owners, Guardian” the younger sighed out from his position upon the cot, his body sat within the warm embrace of his lover who virtually cocooned around him as they faced the man and the empty cells behind him.

“Agent, forgive me, I don’t mean any disrespect” the younger offered; “this cell is... _amenable_ and we thank you, deeply, for the arrangement... tell me, is that man well? He is still breathing, I take it?”

Blinking, Phil nodded after the words his youngest charge had said sunk in; “Agent Phelps is fine, thank you for asking” he returned. “I have my own apology to give for that, of course, we had been promised that you’d be strictly under our jurisdiction... I’m sorry that you were rushed and handled in the way you were” he said, his tone earnest despite the bullet-proof barrier between them.

“What is it that you want, Agent?” Bucky (or so he’d been told; again, he preferred that to James) asked; “please do not waste your time or ours with small talk... we may be a captive audience but our time is still precious” he added through a grunt, his arms minutely tightening their hold upon the lithe body posed upon his crossed legs.

“Fair enough, then I’ll get straight to the point” the (seemingly) older man (having been frozen several times and, on occasions, for extensive periods made the whole _age_ thing debatable, after-all) acknowledged with a short cough, his parade-rest stance stiffening slightly. “In light of your _situation_ , former lives and your willingness to cooperate, The Council have authorised Shield to make you an offer... of sorts...”

“Oh, here we go...” 

“Please pardon his poor manners, Agent, we’re listening” Tony cut in, his elbow lightly jabbing into his lover’s side; “although, I assume that this _offer_ is the only deal on the table and so presenting this as a _choice_ is just a formality, yes?” 

Grinning mirthlessly, Phil relaxed a little, his eyes flicking to the CCTV camera where, no doubt, Nick was watching and chuckling; well, he guessed that there was no point pussy-footing-it around...

“In exchange for you becoming Specialists within Shield, we will offer you accommodation, identification papers, training facilities and three square meals a day...”

“What? No salary? Are we to be _slaves_ then?” Bucky snapped, his blue eyes narrowed angrily, his arms clenching around the smaller man who was observing the Agent with an analytical, calculating gaze; Phil’s mind automatically conjured up an image of a lion sizing up a gazelle.

If it made him shudder a little on the inside then, at least, he knew that his hours of training (and time spent with Clint) would mean he didn’t reflect outwardly.

Or so he hoped.

“It only stands to reason, Guardian... we were and are never meant to be _free_ men... we know too much, have seen too much and could do too much should we be _turned loose_ ” Tony sighed, his back snuggling into the older man’s chest in an attempt to soothe him.

“Shield will, of course, be open to reviewing our _agreement_ with you over time” Phil added; “we already have similar arrangements with several spies from other Countries and Organizations” he furthered, his right hand brandishing a manila envelope from behind his back.

“In any case, Agent Fury and I have pulled as many strings as we can to make sure that this deal is one worth taking...”

“Why?” Bucky challenged, his words slicked with venom; “from the start it has been you and that _Fury_ looking in on us, delivering our meals, bringing the linen” he continued, his hackles raising with developing suspicion. “What is your purpose, your motive? Hmm? Neither of us know you, you owe us _nothing_ so what is it that you want? What game are you playing? Seek to cross us and I shall... _!!_ "

“Please, you misunderstand” Coulson tried, his hands held up in surrender before he moved to shove his package under the thick, crystal threaded glass for the pair to take; neither moved but both regarded him with the same, lethal intent.

“Oh yeah? Well, let us be the judges of that” Bucky grunted; “explain, comrade, we’re waiting.”


	4. Debts to be Paid...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see chapter 1.
> 
> Rating: G

Sucking in a deep breath, his eyes flicking briefly to the nearest camera tilted from the white-washed ceiling, Phil allowed the air to pass through his mouth as a deep sigh; “heh... where do I start?” he muttered, his reaction causing the two huddled upon one of the two slender, military grade cots to lean a little closer.

“Mr Barnes, the name _Howling Commandoes_ may mean little to you now but you were an incredibly influential man amongst a group of men who may well have won the war against Hydra and Hitler both” he said, a small part of his heart aching in a long forgotten empathy when the other male just blinked. “Therefore it shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise to you that you have friends in the U.S. who are investing their time and money into ensuring you can come home where you belong” he continued before nodding towards the camera. “Agent Fury’s father, Nicholas Fury Senior, is one of them... the two of you fought alongside each other and Captain Rogers a handful of times... do either of those names mean anything to you?”

Snorting, the taller man ensconcing the smaller, his chin resting upon a shaggy mop of dark auburn hair, quirked a brow; “Rogers... hmm, if I recall the reports I’ve read and _that_ museum, I was some kind of side-kick to him, yes?”

“ _Side-kick_? No... no, you’ve got that all wrong” Phil was quick to answer, his posture faulting for a second as the man (who he’d once idolised along with the long dead-hero) referred to himself in such menial terms. “You were best friends... your comradery and co-leadership of the Commandoes was almost as legendary as the impossible missions you successfully completed when fighting against HYDRA” he explained, his tone lightly exasperated regardless of the situation.

“Hmm?” Bucky shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? He is dead, the _Bucky_ you intend to help is dead... Shield and HYDRA, you are _too_ similar not to understand this, surely” he continued, his right eyebrow cocking. “You expect me to believe that your great show of _friendliness_ is based on nostalgia?”

“No” a new voice called over the in-call tannoy; “it’s about repaying a debt, a debt that the American military owes you for giving up when you fell from that train.”

“Heh, you people and your _sentimental_ way of thinking” the older assassin grumbled; “a debt for a debt and my life, _his_ life, at ransom? Save your pretty words, Fury, we have simply been re-caged by new masters... Tell me, d’you think that a gold-fish would thank you for a bigger bowl and a novelty castle to swim around?” he asked, his caustic gaze briefly sneaking to the camera.

“Am I also right in guessing that there may be someone from _my_ background involved is this little _re-homing_ ” Tony chipped in, his hazel eyes unfocused as he processed and reasoned out everything that’d happened since the train-compartment they’d been travelling in five days ago had trapped and incapacitated them. 

Stiffening slightly, his professional exterior still not as polished as it should be, Coulson turned away from the camera to observe the twenty-three year old; for a brief, heart-breaking moment, Phil saw Clint’s curled form, his split lip and feral gaze.

“Once you were positively identified, Mr Stark, a secured message was sent to the current CEO of your late-father’s company... he knew you, as a boy, his name is Obadiah Stane and yes, you’re not wrong in your assumption. In fact, at the earliest time we can _verify_ , he would very much like to see you if you’re interested” he added lightly, an image of balding business man as he gasped, sat down and stared at the photos which Shield Agents had taken upon their capture flooding his mind’s eye.

“Oh? Well, that clearly means any entitlement I may have had to Howard’s estate and assets must be well and truly gone then” he mused, his tone icy in its neutrality; “you’d think that someone who’d gained so much from me being missing wouldn’t be quite so eager to see me alive and well” he mused. “Hmm, I had been wondering, you know, since you’ve so kindly informed me about my past, how a boy living in a technological strong-hold and surrounded by private security, could simply be picked up and taken away, the police not contacted for two whole hours...”

Narrowing his eyes, Phil felt himself moving a step closer to the glass: “do you remember something?”

Chuckling, his smile mirthless, the younger man leaned forward whilst his larger, silent companion released a deep exhale.

“Thank you, once more, for your words and efforts, Agent Coulson” the younger stated, his left hand gesturing to the envelop still resting upon the white-painted, cement floor; “we will review your offer now, in private, ah... or should I say, in the privacy we’re allowed, if you don’t mind?” he asked, his smile all teeth, charm and good-manners.

“You have given us much to think about...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be rated 'SC' for:
> 
> * Sneaky-Clint  
> * Stressed-Coulson  
> * Secret-Correspondence  
> * Sarcastic-Cleaning-staff  
> And  
> * Serious-Collusions
> 
> _Ooooohhhhhhhhhh_


	5. What is Given can be Taken Away...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: it's behind you!! : )
> 
> This chapter is rated T/M for:
> 
> Horny Tony  
> Protective Bucky  
> Fun-Police Coulson...
> 
> Nothing graphic BUT there be physicality ahoy!

”This arrangement they are proposing, it is ridiculous...”

Humming, his hazel eyes still skipping through the terms and condition which many would find simply too small to read, Tony merely nodded in the places where his ranting guardian would expect him to, his mind alight with several ideas which were (slowly but surely) morphing into a plan.

”Being housed in communal, monitored barracks? Feh! Why not a dog-kennel with collars?!”

It would be difficult but _not_ impossible after a few months of good behaviour and a clean streak successful missions...

”And expecting us to train and _work_ with their _specialist teams_? What kind of thinking is this? Those children will tire within an hour of what we do for _sport_! Hah! They must be joking! Why not simply send us in as a paired unit? They have witnessed us in action, haven’t they? They know what we can do so why bog us down with _dead weight_? American thinking is strange... ”

However, even though his older lover showed off such a brutish, brash and predictable persona to the majority of those he wished to trick and intimidate, he was, in truth, remarkably shrewd and intelligent; he was _almost_ as good an actor as _Tony_ was, himself.

Hmm, yes, he could **be** a Tony, he supposed...

“Do you like the name Bucky?” he asked, his question slicing through his lover’s tirade with the effectiveness of a hot knife through butter.

“What?”

Grinning up from the slender cot he’d stretched across, the deflated pillow bundled under his chin and locked in place by his braced elbows, his hands still gripping the papers they’d been given, _Tony_ cocked his head to the side and smirked.  “James Buchannan Barnes... Bucky is a strange choice of nick-name... why not Jim? Jimmy? Jim-bo?”

”Please stop...”

”BB? Butch? No, no Bucky is too perfect...” the younger crooned, his eyes alight with mischief as he locked gazes with the man who’d been grumpily pacing the length and breadth of their cell; “it must have held some kind of significance, perhaps a _fondness_? ” he murmured in a sultry tone.

”Angel?”

“Umm? Oh, don’t mind me... I’m just thinking aloud... however, _Bucky_ , I think I shall call you James, yes, it’ll be what _I_ call you ” he decided before, with an agile flick of his wrist, the papers he held flew up into the air and scattered like confetti at a wedding. 

”What are you...”

”I’m so very _tired_ of all this useless lounging around ” he declared, the documents now messily arranged upon the white painted cement; “surely there is something more _fun_ we could be... _doing_? ” he close to purred, his eyebrows waggling suggestively.

”You cannot be serious...” Bucky breathed, a soft, pink tongue slipping out to wet suddenly dried lips: ”we aren’t alone here...” he was quick to remind, a true glare shooting its way to one of the cameras before carefully returning to the lithe, jump-suit wearing male who was slowly re-posing himself.

“Come now _James_ , aside from a handful of times when we were on missions together, we’ve never really been alone” he reminded whilst stretching (long, languid, _feline_ ) and turning to lie on his back, those glittering eyes full of mischief and promise. ”You’ve never let a few peeping Tom’s stop you from enjoying me before now, have you?”

”This... this time is different...”

”It is?”

”Of course it is!” the older huffed, the azure of his eyes deep and broiling with a lust he was clearly struggling to control: ”before I _could not_ prevent them from looking at you, watching you whilst we loved each other... but here I can, I was able to stop that Agent from grabbing you only hours ago... ”

”And now look what’s happening... you’re stopping yourself from grabbing me... I haven’t been _touched_ by you in months...” the younger breathed, his lips morphing into a saddened pout (a ploy that had never failed him) as he sighed.  ”How can you just leave me like this? I feel so cold and empty and you’re so far away...”

”Angel... _do not_... ”

”Didn’t you **promise** me that, so long as you were breathing, I would never feel that way again when we were free of HYDRA?” he asked, his tone quivering on the word ‘ _promise_ ’ which, even to what little conscience he had left, was quite the low blow.

” _Angel..._ ”

‘ _Bingo!_ ’

Grinning for all he was worth when the primal growl that rippled up his Guardian’s throat stoked the smouldering heats of his own passion, Tony couldn’t contain his pleased giggled when the older, taller man pounced on him, their shared weight and wrestling of limbs causing the cot to groan and creak in protest.

“Heh... when can I ever deny you anything?” the long haired male asked, his lips hungrily devouring his partner’s neck; “I have little to prepare you with... are you sure you’ll be...”

“Gentlemen? If I may?”

Snarling through clenched teeth, his legs and arms wrapping up and around his lover and forcing the original _Winter Soldier_ to keep his head buried in the shorter man’s neck, Tony tilted his head back to glare at _Agent Coulson_.

“Agent, I was hoping that our dealings with each other could be friendly” he breathed, his fingers massaging tense, muscle slaked shoulders; “however, _cock-blocking_ me is _not_ the best way to go about _keeping us on side_ , you understand?”

Struggling to remain stoic (a little voice that sounded distinctly like his own younger, controversial lover chirping something along the lines of just letting the broken people so desperately grinding on each other do what they want), Phil took a breath and sighed it from his nose.

“This isn’t anything personal” he stated calmly; “but we have a group of influential higher-ups flying in any moment now and, ready or not, they want your answer...”

“What happened to us being given time?” Bucky growled, the feel of his lover’s legs gently squeezing his waist doing little to soothe him.

“I’m sorry... my Russian isn’t...”

“Don’t worry yourself” Tony snorted before, with one last hug, he released the older assassin. “Fine, fine... tell them yes and...”

“They will be coming down here to see and meet you in person...” Phil cut in, his eyes giving the scattered papers a worried glance before offering the young killer (so young, much to young for all of that blood... just like Clint) a helpless shrug. “I _am_ sorry, for what it’s worth... we didn’t think that they’d react so quickly... it would seem that Mr Stane is at the forefront of the Council moving so quickly and taking such an interest...” he added, his face sinking back into careful neutrality once more.

“I must admit that even we didn’t realise just how far his influences stretched... and that’s why Agent Fury and myself will be with you every step of the way...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... sorry for the slow rates of updating right now guys...
> 
> I've fallen back in love with my One Piece OTP and have had four major projects on the go at work (why did I want that promotion again?) which, coupled with hay-fever, has made my update times even slower than usual...
> 
> Sorry : (
> 
> However, in two weeks time I'm going on holiday to a cabin with no internet (*dies*) which should:
> 
> a) Give me lots of writing time  
> b) Mean that I won't get distracted so I can focus on writing!
> 
> Therefore, come early August, expect a whole bunch of updates!
> 
> : )


	6. Breaking the Act...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see chapter 1.
> 
> Wow... s'been over a year...
> 
> To anyone still reading, I'm SO SORRY that it's taken this long to update! The plot bunnies which rule my mind are fickle and disorganised...
> 
> I will try harder to add more chapters more regularly!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me!
> 
> ; 3

Obadiah Stane had been having a wonderful weekend; yes, even someone like him with his money, power and influence could have the occasionally exceptional _little-break_ where one’s already superb existence was made all the sweeter and yet...

“What do you mean? When I spoke to the Council I was promised that the boy, my _best friend’s_ son, would be released to my security forces today... so what in god’s name has changed now?”

Bumps in the road always seemed to come along and jolt you back to reality...

“With respect, Mr Stane, the situation is a lot more complicated than what we’d first thought” a mild, insipid looking man stated via video-link, his calm demeanour riling the CEO up further.

“Then _un_ -complicate it!” he snapped, his icy eyes narrowing; “I do not fund Shield and its many little side-projects just to be turned away when you’ve _finally_ done something beneficial for a change!”

For the boy, _Tony_ , and his deadly pet-monster weren’t just valuable in terms of the serum, they would both serve as a template for his private army and the future soldiers that he’d be selling to the highest bidder; sure, it was crude, but he could imagine Howard himself opting in to such a venture.

The pair were just too good a prospect to simply _give-up_ to Shield, especially when HYDRA had yet to penetrate the upper-echelons of one of America’s most well-sourced secret services and had paid him, quite handsomely, to bring the assassins back into their fold.

“We still have psych evaluations to perform and tracking down Bucky’s next of kin is...”

“Ridiculous! My team and I are even better equipped than you are to...”

“Mr Stane, I am sorry for cutting in” a voice he vaguely recognised as belonging to an upstart Agent with a cock-sure attitude and ambitions to match his father and grandfather’s military records; “but I’m afraid that Mr Stark and Mr Barnes cannot be interned to your custody today...”

“ _ **What?!**_ ” he snarled, his tone more vicious than taken aback; “I have just spent fourteen god-damned hours in the air to reach this bastard place!” he furthered angrily as he continued to glare at the screen set up on the conference room he, his lawyers and assistants had been escorted to.

“And we understand and _appreciate_ this, of course” the invisible speaker commented whilst the first person he’d spoken to since arriving continued to stand at military-rest, his gaze strong and unwavering; “that’s why we’ve arranged for you to meet with them today...”

“Them?” Obadiah snipped, his right brow cocking; “aside from assisting in any possible rehabilitation, I have no interest in meeting with Barnes... in fact, I had been _assured_ that they were being separated” he grunted, a glare sliding to two of his legal-aids as they started to anxiously type on the tablets. “That _man_ , tch, if he can still be called that, is a lost cause... I don’t want his bad-influence around my godson who, I believe, has the potential to put this nightmare behind him with therapy and support” he continued, the act he’d been perfecting for these past few weeks going just as he’d planned it.

Or so he thought...

“Again, we are sorry that you’re clearly _unhappy_ , but they won’t be separated” the speaker stated, a hint of smugness tingeing his tone and forcing Stane’s frown into an ugly sneer; “they’ve signed contracts with Shield, _sir_ , and one of the key stipulations is that they come as a... _matching set_ which, I’d assumed, would have been beneficial for you and the _support_ you wish to give.”

Somehow managing not to baulk, a light sweat peppering his brow, the CEO was about to retort when, to his rising ire, the first Agent began to tap away on his own tablet (courtesy of Stark Industries, _decades_ ahead of its time) and, to Stane’s left, one of the security doors hissed open.

“If you would be so kind as to follow the three operatives entering the room, sir, they will escort you to the holding facility” he said, something sharp and calculating flitting across his face which, for a second, sent a thrill of fright up his spine.

He’d have to contact Pierce about all of this much sooner than he’d thought...

~*~*~*~

“ Hn, did I not say that he’d be fat?”

Watching keenly (and still sore about being unable to steal a few minutes of passion), the pair of assassins continued to lounge upon the cot they’d claimed with Bucky propped upright against the wall with a distinctly unimpressed Tony slouched between his parted thighs, the younger male’s head perched artfully on his right shoulder.

“Ooh... I think he understands Russian, Guardian... that, or he’s merely a jabbering idiot...”

“Well, aren’t the pair of you playing _nice_?” Nick Fury quipped from his spot beside the cell, a smirk tugging his lips despite himself whilst Stane made his cautious approach; to say that he didn’t like the CEO was an understatement _but_ if he was going to pull his master-plan off, then he’d have to at least _act_ civil.

Hell, if the old Capitalist dressing himself in the robes of a humanitarian could pull it off then he would also mask his true intentions.

For the sake of these two men (who, he’d only admit to himself, were really starting to grow on him... on Phil, too, he was willing to bet), he’d certainly do his best.

Their Country owed them that much.

“My God” Obadiah breathed; “you... you look just like your father” he added with a swallow when he finally reached the reinforced glass, his eyes roving over the younger man who continued to review him with a cold, impassive disinterest even as the three Shield Agents retreated to stand at the back of the prison chamber.

“So I’ve been told” the twenty-three year old shrugged lazily, the fingers of his left hand absentmindedly drawing patterns on his lover’s leg whilst he inspected the nails of his right; “did he leave me anything?”

“W-what... I...”

“Because that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” he huffed, his hazel eyes softening a little as he sat forward, a small smile playing on his lips which had Nick instantly wary; “hmm... it’s not money, no, a man like you has enough of that” he murmured thoughtfully, his slow, subtle movements keeping Obadiah’s complete attention. 

“Property? Unlikely... you probably have real-estate across the globe... ah, so maybe I am wrong? Maybe it is not what I’m owed, but what I can give, yes? Now, what could that be?” he purred whilst slinking to the edge of the bed with long, sensuous motions. “What is _so_ important that you’d extend this olive-branch,  godfather, if I am guessing wrong, hm? The goodness of your heart? A promise to my late parents, perhaps? No...” he breathed, the smirk crawling across his face both seductive and dangerous.

“I _know_ what it is” he cooed sweetly, his eyelashes fluttering; “shall I tell you? Here, come closer, yes... that’s it” he grinned, his tone soft and gentle.

“You want... **_this!!_** ”

Yowling in horror, his body recoiling whilst Tony’s heady laughter flooded the chamber, Stane fell to the floor as the glass (military-grade, bullet-proof, the best material when it came to shatter resistant technology) shuddered and cracked under the incredible power of Bucky’s round-house kick.

“You want power! But you _cannot_ handle it! I am the Shadow that heralds the wake of the Soldier and _you_ , Stain, I _know_ who you are... your voice is one that’s resounded through _their_ halls ” he chuckled delightedly, his body falling into the embrace of his lover who continued to stare down at the CEO with grim, cold resolve. 

“Fury, this sack of shit is more a traitor than we could ever hope to be” he added even as the blinking Agent (begrudgingly) helped the gasping, wide-eyed businessman to his feet after motioning to his men _not_ to fire their raised, eagerly trained pistols.“ I can supply you with dates, times and meeting places as evidence... for a price, of course” he furthered, his keen gaze meeting Fury’s with a cheeky little wink.

“My first request is a more private room with a much _bigger_ bed... ”


End file.
